


Of Rotten Liars and the Taste of Truth

by theroyalsavage



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff, Humor, M/M, What else is new, will is a dork and nico's an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theroyalsavage/pseuds/theroyalsavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Will Solace lies to Nico di Angelo the summer after the war with Gaea, plus one time he tells the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Rotten Liars and the Taste of Truth

Will Solace despised lying.

For one thing, he was abysmal at it; every false word he spoke made his voice crack up an octave (or six). Plus, he was a serial blusher, and Leo Valdez – damn him – had called Will ‘Lobster Boy’ for a whole week after an incident involving a full bottle of Gatorade and the front of Lou Ellen’s shirt. For another thing, lying inevitably made him feel nauseous, like his insides were trying to collapse in on themselves and wring the guilt out.

Basically, Will had a thousand good reasons to be truthful, so that was what he was. Honest. He could count on one hand the number of times he lied during the summer after the battle with the Earth Mother. Three. Three times he swallowed the bile rising in his throat and forced the sour, jagged words out anyway.

Three times he lied.

(Plus one time he didn’t.)

 

_Lie Number One: “I’m fine.”_

People likened Nico di Angelo to darkness pretty frequently.

Will heard it a lot around camp – around his own cabin, especially. There was something deeply metaphorically resonant about a child of Hades almost being consumed alive by shadows, and Apollo kids liked nothing better than a good metaphor. (Well. Okay. A good metaphor was probably fourth on the list, somewhere below Wheel of Fortune, folk music, and sunbathing, not necessarily in that order.)

 _You hear about the di Angelo kid? Pretty freaky stuff, right? Man, I’m damn glad I don’t have_ him _for an enemy._

_Wow, Nico’s so brave. I can’t imagine how afraid he must’ve been._

_What else would you expect from a child of Death?_

The rumors made Will’s stomach turn. Not just because he didn’t like hearing them talk about Nico like that, though that was probably part of it. It was also partially because he didn’t think Nico was very much like darkness at all. In fact, to Will, Nico was more like a sunrise. The whole sky, the whole world, had been awash in gray like peeling paint. Then the younger boy came back to camp, all messy bangs and heavy scowls and eyes like nobody’s business (dear lord, a man could _drown_ in eyes like that), and it was like the universe exploded into shades of crimson, orange, pink, gold.

Not that Will would ever, _ever_ tell Nico that. Christ Almighty, he’d probably keel over of embarrassment before he even got a single word out.

Their friendship was… unlikely, to say the least. The thing was, during their time together when Nico was recovering from his excessive shadow-travel, Will realized that he genuinely _liked_ having Nico around, liked his dark humor and quiet contemplation and careful, deft fingers. So when three days were up and Will had to release Nico from his mandatory respite, he asked him to stay on and help the medics out from time to time. Nico agreed grudgingly, and though he slowly began to act less and less like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he still seemed stunned when Will talked to him anywhere outside of first aid.

Will wasn’t an idiot. He heard his cabinmates whispering behind their backs, saw the bemused, darting glances and the carefully concealed giggles. The thing was, he didn’t much care. He had a reputation around Camp Half-Blood as being a people person, but he found himself caring less and less about _people_ and more and more about Nico.

He started noticing things. Dumb things. The delicate, graceful line of Nico’s collarbones. His fingers, long and slim like a piano player’s. The precise shape of his mouth and the way it crooked up, just a little, when Will told a stupid joke. The nervous way he held himself at the campfire or at dinner, wound-up, like a runner at the starting line, like he expected to be shouted at, chased away. The easy banter he exchanged with Jason Grace and Hazel Levesque and even (a little, after a couple weeks back at camp) Percy Jackson. The timbre of his voice, deeper than Will’s even though he was skinnier and younger and a little bit shorter.

Will’s hands got shaky around Nico. He dropped things a lot, and Nico would raise an eyebrow and comment dryly, “Good gods, people actually let you _operate_ on them?”

Will’s throat felt thick around Nico. Breathing was harder. It was like drowning, but the burn was almost _pleasant_.

Will’s smile came easier around Nico. He was tired – gods, he was tired – always something to do, always another camper to fix up, but around Nico it didn’t seem to matter.

It came to him, _finally_ , for no apparent reason on no particularly singular day. The two of them were sitting on the grass near the strawberry fields and Nico was talking about something stupid Percy had said, and he was gesturing emphatically with his hands like he always did when he got excited and the sunlight made his hair look like black fire and, _Zeus_ , Will was in love.

“…and he won’t stop _bugging_ me about it, even though I _told_ him it wasn’t important…”

Oh, no, oh, no, oh, _no_. What was _that_ supposed to be? Six billion people on the planet, and Will had to fall for the _one_ guy who only seemed to _tolerate_ his presence, and just _barely_ at that. How stupid can you get?

“…he keeps springing it on me at random moments, thinking he’ll catch me off guard or whatever. Who even cares, seriously, it was just a dumb line I said without really thinking…”

Will was sized by the sudden, violent desire to kiss the frown off Nico’s face.

“…and now the dumb bastard’s got Jason doing it, too… oi, Solace, what’s with that face? You sick or something?”

“I’m fine,” Will protested brightly. “Just a headache.”

But Will wasn’t fine. Not even close.

 

_Lie Number Two: “I’m not flirting!”_

Number two came several weeks after number one. Will had complained to Nico one too many times about his own inability to differentiate between the hilt and the blade of a sword. The next day, Will found himself being dragged out of bed just minutes after dawn by an altogether-too-chipper Jason Grace, who had apparently volunteered to help him.

“Nico told me you wanted to get better,” Jason grinned, “and here I am.”

_Zeus have mercy, what did I do to deserve this?_

Will, unlike many other Apollo kids, was not a morning person. Will, unlike many other Apollo kids, had been up in the infirmary until three in the morning treating Travis Stoll’s broken arm. Will, unlike many other Apollo kids, needed at least seven hours of sleep to function.

Will, unlike many other Apollo kids, did not consider himself above murder. Especially not if the victim happened to be perfect, tall, muscular, _chiseled_ Jason Grace, who Nico seemed to orbit around like a moon.

Not that he was jealous. Will Solace did _not_ get jealous. He was too emotionally mature to… _ahem_ … well, okay, Will was a little jealous.

“Don’t worry, Will,” Jason was crowing as he slung an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Will groaned and stumbled a little. “If I can teach Pipes how to use a longsword, I can teach _anyone_.”

Will opened his mouth to snap how _that_ _really_ _wasn’t the problem here_ , and _please never talk to me_ _again_ , and maybe even _if you don’t get your stupid Roman hands off me I’ll sock you in the jaw,_ but an extremely annoyed voice came from behind them and cut him off.

“I resent that. And after I dragged myself out of bed to come help you.”

The two blond boys turned around to face Piper McLean, striding down the hill with a very narrow, very dangerous look in her eyes. Will felt his stomach fall out from under him when he saw Nico jogging behind her.

Jason and Piper were bickering and Will was still exhausted, but it didn’t really seem like it mattered anymore. He shot a groggy, half-hearted grin at Nico, who turned a light shade of pink.

“Before you say anything, I only asked Jason to help you because—”

Will put his hands up in a placating gesture and drawled, “Come on, Death Boy. Like I’d make fun of you for doing something so _nice_ and _thoughtful_ for me. Really, I was so _touched_ to find out how much you _cared_ , I never knew—”

“I’m going to punch you, Solace. And stop calling me Death Boy.”

“It’s too early in the morning for violence, sunshine. How about a hug instead?”

“How about no? And don’t call me sunshine, either.”

“Death Breath.”

“No.”

“Batman.”

“Solace—”

“Sean Bean.”

“Okay, stop, that one literally makes _no_ sense.”

“Just because you don’t get the reference doesn’t mean it wasn’t funny, Grandpa.”

“I got the reference. It still wasn’t funny.”

“ _Hey, guys, stop flirting and get down here! I got out of_ bed _for you, William!”_

Will froze at Jason’s voice. Nico cheeks were reddening again, so Will blurted, “I’mnotflirting!”

Gods above. Even Nico, oblivious when it came to other people as he was, must’ve been able to see through that.

 

_Lie Number Three: “I don’t want anything from you.”_

Number three came in late August. It was nighttime, stars scattered like sugar across the velvet sky, and Nico was conspicuously absent at the campfire. (Well. Conspicuous was a relative term. Will was pretty sure four people in total noticed the son of Hades wasn’t there: Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Hazel Levesque, and himself. But Will’s chest felt tight and heavy the whole time, and so it was pretty conspicuous for _him_.)

Will found him inside the forest, sitting on the roots of a tree, hugging his knees to his chest. It was dark, too dark to see much, so Will pulled for a little bit of the sunlight his father’s genes allowed him to control. The sudden wash of light over the clearing made Nico’s head jerk up. Their eyes met, clear blue and flat black.

Will stumbled, almost fell.

Nico was _crying_.

“I’m sorry,” Will gasped. “Gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I… I’ll leave.”

Nico’s jaw gritted down and he shot to his feet. Will could feel fury rolling off him in waves. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said desperately. “I was… I was looking for you because you weren’t at the campfire, and I was worried—”

“You were _worried_?” Nico echoed. His eyebrows shot up, disappeared under his mop of bangs. “Oh, please. Don’t fucking lie to me, Solace.”

“What is that supposed to—?”

“Nobody _worries_ about me,” he snarled. “Nobody _worries_ about the goddamn god of death’s son.”

“Well, I was worried,” Will repeated firmly – maybe a little more angrily than he intended to. “Duh. You’re my friend.”

Nico’s eyes flashed and he stalked forward, grabbed Will’s collar and yanked him down so they were face to face. “Get this through your thick head,” he hissed. “I don’t know why you’ve been so nice to me. I don’t know why you act like… act like… like I matter, or something. But I’m not an idiot, and I don’t want to be your charity case or some bet you have with your moron cabinmates.”

“It’s not like that,” Will protested hotly. “I don’t hang around you because I feel bad for you—”

“Then you want something from me. Everybody does. They want something from me and then they cast me aside. That’s how it works, Solace. That’s how it’s always worked.”

“Yeah, well, not me. I don’t want _anything_ from you, Death Boy.”

But that was a lie, too, and it burned like bile in his mouth.

 

_Truth: “More than okay.”_

Will was in a rotten mood in the couple days following his altercation with Nico. He felt, in some bizarre, inexplicable way, like he’d gotten rejected, which was stupid, because he’d never even confessed his feelings in the first place.

 _Nobody_ worries _about me_ , Nico’s voice shouted in his head. _I don’t want to be your charity case… They want something from me and then they cast me aside. That’s how it works, Solace_.

What had Will ever done to make Nico think he was less than sincere? What had he ever said to make Nico think he was trying to pull some kind of prank? It didn’t make sense, didn’t compute in Will’s brain, and it was driving him completely insane.

It became a near constant battle in his mind; should he go look for Nico, or should he just leave him alone, give him space?

In the end, he didn’t have to make the choice. He was on duty in the infirmary the fourth afternoon after their fight when Nico came to him. It was a quiet day, Will only having to deal with a nosebleed and a particularly nasty sliver in a first year camper’s foot, so the infirmary was empty and Will was slumped in a chair with his face buried in his hands. He was just thinking, _I could probably sleep like this_ , when a quiet voice said above him, “Is it okay if I come in?”

Will practically fell out of his chair in shock.

“You – I – um, I mean, yeah, sure, of course you can. Did you… get hurt, or something?”

Nico winced and shifted his weight from foot to foot, his hands buried in the pockets of that stupid, adorable oversized aviator jacket. “No, I – well. I came to apologize, actually.”

Was this how Will was destined to die? Of shock, and potentially heart palpitations?

“You… what?”

“What I said to you the other day. I didn’t… I mean. Ugh. I didn’t mean it, I guess. You’ve been really nice to me, and I was just…” He scowled ( _adorably_ ) and stared so hard at the floor Will thought he might burn a hole in it. “It was the anniversary of Bianca’s death. So I was a little. Um. Sad. I guess.”

Things fell into place rather like a satellite crashing out of orbit. Will didn’t know what to feel: relief, maybe, that it wasn’t his fault, or immense sadness for the boy standing in front of him, or frustration that he’d been too stupid to realize something bigger was going on.

“You’re forgiven,” Will finally managed. “Of course you’re… _Gods_ , Nico, of course you’re forgiven. Just please, please come to me next time, okay?” He gritted his teeth and gathered his courage and said, “I will never let you feel alone ever again.”

Nico’s eyes widened and for a second Will thought he’d finally done it, finally ruined everything, but then the smaller boy closed the space between them with a fierce, burning look in his eyes. Before Will could blink, their lips were pressed together, and their mouths fit so perfectly – Nico’s breath was warm and shocking and real – and Will’s hands came up, hesitantly, to curl themselves into Nico’s soft hair and Will was pretty sure he _could’ve_ died just then and he would’ve been perfectly pleased.

Nico pulled away after what might’ve been an eternity and might’ve been a minute. “Was that okay?” he asked softly.

“More than okay,” Will whispered and _gods_ , did he like how the truth tasted on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anybody was wondering, I, like Will, am a horrific liar. I get too nervous and start giggling like a loon.  
> Comments are a girl's best friend!


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